I'm strange, all right! I'll show you just how strange I am!

Welcome on and all to the wonderful world of "Why the Fuck Are We in Pomona Shooting Drag Racing?" Six in the morning and we're shooting drag racers and going deaf from these ridiculous cars. The tracks are a quarter mile long and these things run on jet fuel or something and the whole pit area around the cars fills with a toxic mixture of who-knows-what that burns the eyes and lungs. I had to bail out several times because I quite literally couldn't breath or see. It was fun operating and the cars do haul some serious ass but after awhile it does get incredibly old. I don't really understand how people get so excited by the whole thing. Honestly, if you're not driving one of these rolling incendiary devices what the hell is the attraction? Nothing against anyone who's into drag racing but I just ain't into the whole thing. Long day, loud noises, and I'm covered in a thin layer of oil and gas and microscopic bits of rubber. Not good, not good.

Peace out, bitches!

Now, don't you worry. The saucers are up there. The graveyard is out there. But I'll be locked up safely in there.

So it's my actual birthday. Big deal. I'm not feeling it this year. I am feeling the swell new pants I bought myself at Volcom. Melah got me a couple of t-shirts. I also picked up two CDs from The International Noise Conspiracy and am listening to them AS I TYPE! Good stuff, I highly recommend them to all of you knuckleheads out there.

Here is the one strange thing about today: I made an impulse buy at Headline Records (last punk rock outpost on Melrose) of a Cramps t-shirt and a Bad Brains t-shirt. Why? I'm an old guy now, why am I buying punk rock t-shirts? Answer: senility is kicking in super early and I'm doomed. Or maybe I'm saved. Saved from the rest of adulthood by mental illness. Sweet.

OK, I need to read about the Crusades and get some sleep so I can go work tomorrow.

Peace out, bitches!

She wants to play lumberjack, she's going to have to learn to handle her end of the log.

So we put in a full day of hunting and all we have to show for it is two shots on some California Mountain Quail and no birds in the bag. Ghost Face Killer did pretty well all things considered and Melah kicked ass. Good times. It was wonderful walking around in the great outdoors of Central California but I'd be a whole hell of a lot happier if I'd bagged some fucking quail. C'est la vie. Check out these friggin' photos of some friggin' nature ya humps!

Isn't Cali the bomb?

Peace out, bitches!

No, Mr. Trumbo, the earth belongs to the men who make the law, and the law belongs to the men who can lay it down.

Ok, so the title of this post is from a totally fucked up movie, I admit, but I thought it was sort of funny and weird as I'm in a crappy Days Inn in the Central Valley of California. The girl and I are on a hunting trip and it's going slowly. No birds yet, just a long walk in some gorgeous, unspoiled California foothills. Of course Ghost had to go and get himself covered in briars. Not just briars, but briars coated with some sort of super sticky resin. Good dog. Anyway, here are some photos of odds and ends here in God's country.

OK, maybe an explanation might be in order: the first one is a wonderful panorama of a live fire range in the middle of quail country. The tank is a target. The second photo is of a herd of elk. Yeah, we got elk in Cali, wannafightaboutit? The third is of a free-range van somewhere in the Los Padres wildlife area. You can tell it's asleep because the lights are all off. Shhhh, let sleeping vans lie.

Peace out, bitches!

Cat named Shaft ain't gonna be bad with a stick.

So the first day of the black presidency and what the fuck happens to me? I get up early, cuddle with my lady and walk my dog. Everything is fine at this point. On the way to work I tear up as I listen to a 74 year old woman describe how she can now tell her grandchildren to do better because she has Obama as an example of what black Americans can achieve. I think the stress of last night finally caught up with me but it was also just really amazing. I get to work, happy as hell, wearing a t-shirt with a picture of McCain with the word "Nope" underneath the image. Good times. Everything was going great until I ate my healthy breakfast and three hours later felt like death. Yeah, food poisoning! At work! So fucking great to be at work. So happy that a black man finally became president of this bitch. So unhappy to pissing water all day while trying to work on what should have been a very easy commercial for Crown Royal. Ugh. I finally got my hand on some Immodium AD and began to feel a bit better near the end of the day. I'm going to crash now and hopefully tomorrow will bring some relief. Right now my stomach feels like I've spent the day doing crunches while being kicked in the dick. 

Peace out, bitches!

What did he say? He said the sheriff is near.

The Santa Anas are blowing, the sky is clear, a shooting star crossed a half-moon and a black man is going to be President of these here United States. As John McCain's idiot supporters chant against and boo Obama's name I can't help but feel that quite possibly the reign of the white supremacist is finally drawing to a close. The weight of the evil and venal acts and beliefs of one of the most subsidized and coddle people in all of human history may finally be lifted from the shoulders of what has always been a potentially great country. For the first time in all of my thirty six (soon to be thirty seven) years I feel proud of my country. ¡Si, se puede, pendejos! In the sense that I am actually capable of any real human emotion, I'm very close to crying tears of patriotic joy. Seriously, can everyone just get a fucking day off tomorrow?

As an aside, how the fuck is William Bennett on CNN being asked questions and taken seriously? He's a fucking totem for the cycle of idiocy, hypocrisy, and venality that we just, as a country, voted out of office! I hope the chickens finally have come home to roost and I hope we can all stop listening to, reporting on, or even vaguely entertaining the ideas or opinions of people like Bill O'Reilly or Rush Limbaugh, or Bill "I Loves To Gamble" Bennett.

Peace out, bitches!

Ain't so funny meow is it?

Night shoot turned into a half-night shoot and a quick beer at Bar 107. Too bad it was the night before Halloween and all of the desperately cool dip shits from downtown were infesting the joint. I like Bar 107 it's an old bar that had gone to hell for a loooonnng time and a couple of years ago some punkers bought the place and spruced it up. It pretty much looks like it used to but it don't stink so bad anymore. Good times. Anyway, too many tragically cool people always spoil a good time in my opinion: bad manners, pushing and shoving and acting like their soooo cool you couldn't possibly pop 'em in the jaw for breathing too hard on you. There was a minor scuffle as this drunk jackass pushed his way into the crowd at the bar. I got shoved and the douche tried to say something to me so I kinda sort of punched him in the crotch. It was very discreet, and I think people just thought he fell over. He was really, very, stupidly drunk and I was very tired and that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Fuck that guy. My friend and I left shortly after that as we realized that it was getting hard to tell if the patrons were male or female. That's right, Halloween in downtown LA and the trannys are out in force! I love Halloween.

Today was so nice. A little overcast a little chilly and absolutely perfect. Went surfing with Melah, visited with Crille and his wife and kids, ate at Bay City Delis, which is one of the greatest delis on this side of the country. Absolutely brilliant and great prices and we're all stuffed and sort of watching bullshit movies and whatnot. Good times! I surfed like shit but had a good time doing it and Melah always looks so cute when she's Super Surfer Girl. Yeah! My girl surfs!

Tomorrow is football Sunday and I need to get ready for a week of work and then a two day hunting trip. I am going to chill chill chill and I can't wait to do so. Hope everyone else is gearing up for a recuperative Sunday.

Peace out, bitches!